Wednesday, 25 April 2012

When I was younger, much much younger, about 8 or 9 years old, my dad and uncle started a newspaper - "STAR". It was a newspaper termed as gutter press by the then Moi regime for the simple reason that the paper was anti-state, anti-government. It would only be a matter of time before the government caught up with them. I remember I was home for the holidays when cartons of paper, cartridges and plates used for printing were brought to our house. My momma called home and told us not to let anyone into our compound or house that day. I was too young to understand it then... You see, as was the trend back then, people who spoke against the government were detained. But I was too young to understand. I learned later that night while watching news that my dad had been arrested and detained at Kasarani Police Station... I'm now glad it wasn't Nyayo House.

He wasn't at Kasarani for long. I went to visit him once. I remember it took long for him to come out and when he did he had a huge smile on his face, similar to the one he wore when I saw him on television the night I learned he had been arrested. Smiling as though nothing had happened. As if he was home... I smiled back, probably because, I was too young to understand. With the innocence of a child, his last born girl, I asked him where he sleeps... On the floor, he responded. - on the mattress momma brought me. I asked him how they shower... With cold water! I was more sorry that he showered with cold water than the fact that he slept on the floor. We had made him breakfast, my sister and I. Toasted egg and tomato sandwich... I don't remember if he ate it.. I didn't care if he did because at that moment: My dad was a HERO! The greatest HERO in this world. He came home a few days later. The "STAR" continued to be published, but not for much longer. I was too young to understand the injustices at the time.

In my post "The Conclusion", I mentioned in passing that lawyer, A.N. Ngunjiri had been murdered in Mr. Joseph Macharia's compound, after he had been beaten into a pulp. Three gunshots emanated from his compound - which led us to conclude that A.N. Ngunjiri had been shot three times.We've been in court... Hence this post "Of fears and love." The case was near conclusion, or so I thought until we resumed and were informed that we have to start all over again... START!!!! I must have zoned out when noticed shit was just about to hit the fan... Why is still a mystery to me.

Here is the thing, I was too young to understand that it was an injustice for my dad to be arrested for exercising his freedom of expression. I was too young to understand what an injustice is... I am not too young now to smell injustice from miles a way! I never really understood the statement "Justice Delayed is Justice Denied"... Until today! I wonder if the judiciary is aware that cases are not like pens to be shared or moved from one judge to another... Here is my take on it: Cases being moved from one judge to another is like playing broken telephone... At some point, the message, and in this case, the truth will get distorted... and the innocent suffer when justice is delayed.. They are denied justice.

A man's life was cut short by some greedy bastards for crying out loud... That man was working FOR the state! How can the loved ones of this man be failed by the same state through delayed justice????

I wish the justice system in Kenya would work!

As what is left of my patriotic juices fade away.... I pray for the family of A.N. Ngunjiri and pray that justice prevails and God's favor be with them... be with us through this entire time.

Thursday, 12 April 2012

Writing this post, is going to leave a bitter taste in my mouth because its not my kind of writing... AT ALL!!! I'm actually posting it under coercion from a friend.

A brief history of the post: It was written at 4:03 a.m after my oh-so-beautiful niece woke up screaming and hurriedly returned to sleep (turns out she was never awake in the first place) thus leaving me and my thoughts awake. *Big Mistake Dear Niece*

So, this post is what transpired at four a.m. - thanks to my thoughts.... or not!

Here goes:

Pick me from your array of pastries,

Pick me from the white and black forests,

Pick me from the chocolate fudge... and any other fudge cake,

*FUDGE*

Just pick me

Pick me - your old fashioned vanilla cake with no raisins, cream or strips of chocolate which you love so much